


Daddy Issues

by xDinahQueenx



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Daddykink, M/M, Solo, Spoilers, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-22
Updated: 2010-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-09 15:43:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xDinahQueenx/pseuds/xDinahQueenx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Livin' with it, but I don't get it/Don't you think maybe we could put on credit/Don't you think it can take control when I don't let it...</p><p>Spoilers for Outsiders #46-49, Checkmate #13-15, Outsiders Annual #1, and Batman and the Outsiders: Five of a Kind Week 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

There was a certain feeling that Owen got, a tingling somewhere near the base of his spine. A sort of warmth mixed with the trepidation of being caught doing something bad. He had caused mischief often enough as a child to know the consequences it wrought. And there was no mistaking that he was too old to be acting out this way anyways. He was an _adult_, after all. Or close enough to being one that he shouldn't have wanted the attention he'd been craving. But it did bear mentioning that he'd never had it then, it was constantly elusive, but something he wanted. Something he desired so strongly that it made him think irrationally. It caused a warming in the pit of his stomach and goosebumps to spring up on his skin while the hair on the back of his neck prickled. It caused his chest to tighten, his breathing to shallow, and his heart to race. But the thing that really, really slayed Owen… was that it almost always happened when Lenny called him 'son'.

He was fairly certain that it should not have been happening. Actually, Owen could think of a couple dozen reasons off of the top of his head why he shouldn't be reacting that way. Strictly speaking, Lenny was _not_ his father, and that should have counted for something. But it didn't. Most of that had to do with the fact that Owen viewed him as such. His time with his real father had been brief and Lenny had filled the void that had been left when George had died. Owen had considered the fact that Lenny hadn't actually meant to, but that didn't change how Owen felt about it. The simple facts remained… Lenny was the closest thing Owen had to a father these days… and referring to Lenny as such put an odd feeling inside of him.

The feeling itself wasn't odd, more like the circumstances surrounding it. He knew the feeling fairly well even. He could categorize it without even needing to spare it a second thought. After all, those feelings weren't strange to Owen. They could be summed up in one word. Though the word _felt_ like a sin this time. Owen thought that was odd, since it'd never been like that in any other situation.

Owen noticed, perhaps he shouldn't have, that Lenny treated him and Axel different. And Owen knew it had absolutely nothing to do with their relatively new status as Rogues. Owen was family, Axel was a legacy villain. They _fit_ here, it was the way of things. There wasn't a proper group of Rogues without a Trickster or a Captain Boomerang. That's what Evan said anyways. Either way, it provided them with _family_. Something far more solid than anything else they'd been a part of.

Owen had talked with Axel about it a bit, one late night, when both of them had had a few too drinks, and their tongues had been loosened up enough to discuss things like that. Emotions, as a general rule, were banned in the Rogues headquarters. Seemed like it sometimes, which was why everything that he was feeling _had_ to be kept under wraps. He tried, he really did.

Owen had taken to spending a lot of time in his room. It was neat, tidy, clean mostly, except for the definite scent of sweat and sex staling in the air. He needed a candle or an air freshener or something. And he had to stop doing this. Generally he seemed to get away with it, but it was getting to the point where he could barely be around Lenny without his cheeks feeling like they were lit on fire. And every moment he was craving for his approval, his touch… even the lightest brush of fingertips. It was maddening, and very likely insane, to the point of needing to be locked up.

Owen saw Lenny as a father figure. Owen had a severe _thing_ for Lenny. Referred to in many different ways, different euphemisms. In his head, it sounded petty, like something a junior high school girl would say. Owen had a crush. One that didn't look like it was going to go away any time soon.

Because every time he thought he had it under control, it'd flare up. Like how it started… when Lenny called him son, when Lenny expressed approval of the things he did, when Lenny gave him that small appreciative smile and clapped him on the shoulder, when Lenny lectured him and sounded like he imagined a disapproving father would sound like. It'd come unbidden. The flush of heat, the stirring between his legs, the guilty thoughts that flickered at the speed of light. He could only hope that Lenny wasn't suspecting anything.

This is the point that Owen found himself at. With the blankets wrapped around his feet and the sweat cooling rapidly against his skin. His coppery hair stuck to his forehead and neck from the dampness, and he went about schooling his breathing back to normal. Owen laid there for a while, composing himself, before he got himself out of bed, cleaned himself up, and tugged on pair of loose fitting track pants. He felt… ashamed of himself, a feeling that had been becoming more and more prevalent after those sessions.

Owen headed in to the kitchen and got himself a glass of water, grateful for the way it tasted and felt, a shock of cold in his too warm body. He set the glass down, then leaned against the sink. His eyes were distant, staring out the window at nothing, and quietly wishing that he could will one feeling or the other or both away. But it seemed like he was going to suffer forever through it… or at least until his attention was pulled in another direction.

Owen briefly considered running away, as far as his legs could carry him… but where else could he go? This was his home. This was the place he felt he belonged. This was where his family was.

* * *

Owen was not sure he liked this series of events. Whatever was happening, he wasn't involved in, but he didn't mind that part. The part that he minded was the last thing they'd done had benched Lenny and now the two of them were at the hideout together. The explanation was simple enough, the reasoning behind it sound. Someone had to stay and make sure Lenny was taken care of… and Owen seemed like a good choice because, well, Evan said he just had. But Owen had heard them whispering about how he'd been acting somewhat strange. He knew he'd have to make a concerted effort to correct that behavior.

After all, hiding a crush and complicated feelings didn't really work if hiding them involved someone suspecting something was up. Evan wasn't the brightest of the bunch, which made it even more worrying. But Owen wasn't thinking about that now. Right now he was thinking about he and Lenny were alone. It shouldn't have mattered, Owen was stronger than that.

And if it just so happened that he sat next to Lenny a bit too closely on the couch while the television flickered, well, it wasn't as though Lenny was going to say anything. Lenny nursed a bottle of beer, and Owen tried to remember if he'd ever seen him out of his costume before. Owen thought Lenny was handsome, though he supposed he wasn't in a traditional sense. Sandy brown hair, a face worn by tragedy, ice-blue eyes which, even now, were alert and hawkish. He didn't have a bad face. His nose was a bit long, the lines etched in were deep but he bore the weight well. Stubble roughened his chin and jaw, and the villainous life had proven not terrible for his body. He was toned, lacking a middle aged-spread. Of course, there were the scars, crisscrossing on his arms, and probably other places.

Owen tried his hardest to focus on the television, wishing that there was something on there that could actually concentrate on. But there isn't, just the dull drone of a newscaster covering some fluffy social event. Owen's eyes stare at the screen anyways while he glances out of the corner of his eye at Lenny. Lenny seems like he's watching through the television.

Unsure of why, Owen bumped his knee against Lenny's. Lenny glanced over at Owen, brows raising some. Owen felt his heart quicken, it was getting _worse_ and he wasn't sure what to do about that. Maybe discussing some of what he felt… but no…

"Want a beer?" Owen asked after a moment, fighting to not bite his lip, keeping his eyes away from Lenny's face. Lenny gave a graceless shrug.

"S'pose so." Lenny said after a moment. Owen did bite his lip when Lenny looked away and Owen felt his fingers curl in to a fist, nails biting against the palms of his hand. He tried to resist. But he wasn't made like the rest of them.

"Lenny… is everything okay?" Owen asked. He saw the shift in Lenny's posture, from something like relaxed into a line of tension. Owen frowned a little. "Never mind…" Owen said, standing quickly from the couch and heading in to the kitchen. Lenny was quiet and didn't follow. Owen thanked someone for small miracles.

Retrospectively, Owen knew he shouldn't have even asked, but he was never good at things like that. Not that he blabbed on and on about what he felt, but people he cared about… it was hard to feign disinterest. He grabbed a few beers out of the fridge and opened them, watching the metal caps clink on to the counter top. He took a moment to catch his breath and regain himself, before he went and sat down with Lenny once more.

Lenny glanced over at him when he re-entered but looked away. He seemed relaxed again and Owen kept his mouth shut as he handed him his beer, and tried to stop his heart from racing when their fingers brushed. Lenny didn't seem to notice, and just took a long drink of the beer, eyes still fixed on the television screen.

Owen breathed out a sigh and focused on his own drink, wondering how he was going to come to terms with all of this. Because no matter how much he wanted to deny it, sooner or later, he was going to have to come out with it.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't clearing up despite Owen's best efforts. Also, there's reasons why he shouldn't drink...

Owen sucked in quick breaths, trying to steady his breathing and calm down the hammering of his heart. His green eyes were wide, and the vivid dreams he'd just been having faded away as he came more and more awake. But judging by the sweat slicking his skin, and the throbbing between his legs, he could surely guess what the dream had been about. Brief snippets still lingered and he bit his lip as he focused on them. Owen shook his head as if to clear it, and then ran a hand through his hair as he tried to think of how to deal with this problem.

As he padded barefoot towards the bathroom, he deliberated in his mind. Cold shower, hot shower… and maybe if he just let his desires run their course, they'd go away. But Owen had been doing just that, not stopping himself as he fantasized and brought himself off, or when he imagined different scenarios all stationed around that one traitorous feeling. Something was wrong with him. Something desperately wrong. He leaned against the wall as the bathroom door was shut, steam seeping out from beneath the crack in the door.

It didn't take long before Mardon stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist and nothing else. His damp hair plastered to his forehead and neck, and his eyes stormy as though he was angry—but that look was default for Mark and it made Owen toss him a sort of half smile. There had to be something wrong with him, though. There was pretty much no denying that Mark was attractive, probably one of the more attractive men on the team, or that he'd even met. He barely noticed, and what he did notice was in a purely academic sense.

For Owen, looking at other people was almost like looking at a piece of artwork. He could appreciate the beauty, see why it was considered one way or the other, but he didn't feel anything. Nothing more than passing admiration and a brief wondering that perhaps if there was a God, then artists were the one most closely made in his image. Owen shook the thought off and smiled a little more at Mark before he moved past him to the bathroom.

Owen shut and locked the door behind him, and leaned against the sink in the lingering steam in the bathroom. It smelled like whatever designer soap that Mark liked to use, and some sort of masculine scented shampoo, but that was alright. Owen was taking great pleasure in the fact that it didn't smell like Lenny at all, though that desire didn't lessen even after all he'd just endured. He took a few deep breaths and decided on hot shower. He moved and turned on the taps, letting them warm as he stripped free from his sleep clothes.

The water was hot. Hotter than was comfortable, really. But that was how Owen wanted it. Because in some odd part of his mind, he knew he needed to teach himself not to feel the way he did. The water stung against his flesh, quickly reddening as he stayed under the spray. The thoughts didn't stop coming, unfortunately, and there was just the uncomfortable nature of his thoughts stinging with the scalding of the water.

Owen washed himself with his hands, foregoing a wash rag, and he let his fingernails scrap along his already tender flesh. He bit his lip to try and ignore the pain, and in the very end… it hadn't even _helped_. Not strong enough to continue, Owen flipped the cold tap on, letting out a sigh of relief as the warm water soothed him. He leaned his forehead against the wall of the shower, and wished it had helped.

When Owen exited, his skin was still tingling, like he'd cut off the circulation and it'd suddenly come flooding back. But the uncomfortable tingling, almost painful, was a welcome change from the uncomfortable tingle that'd been the herald of Lenny's presence these past few months. He passed Axel in the hall, who popped his gum and rose his brows at the sight of Owen's skin, which was vaguely lobster-esque in color.

"There's two taps, yanno." Axel pointed out, popping his gum once more. Owen ignored him and headed on back to his room. He needed some privacy, or something. Axel shrugged and continued on his way down the hall, sliding down the banister to the ground floor. Owen reached his room and flopped down on his bed, cracking open the window. It was blustery outside and a chill wind seeped in to the room. But that suited Owen just fine.

* * *

Everyone else was out, leaving Owen and Axel alone to guard the safehouse. Loathe as he was to admit it, Owen actually liked hanging out with the younger blonde. He was a bit of a brat, a bit more… _violent_ than Owen would have assumed just by looking at him. Yet somehow they got along, connected even, and Owen was okay with that because… it was better than he had had before. Though sometimes Owen had to wonder if perhaps he was taking his legacy _too_ far. After all, he'd never entertained these kinds of thoughts _before_ he had met George. But afterwards, after he had died, it just seemed like something that he had to do. Not that he even begun to understand that. It was just another thing in a long list that he had relegated to just not making sense.

Axel had raided the fridge and had found some kind of foreign beer tucked away in the back. If Owen recalled right, it had had Mark's name on it, but when he'd mentioned that, Axel had rolled his eyes and handed him the bottle anyways. Owen drank it gratefully, almost wincing at how much stronger it was than what he normally drank. Of course, the fifteen dollars and up six-packs that Mark tended towards (some sort of attempt at sophistication, maybe…) were much different than the ten dollars for a case of twenty-four that the others tended to. Quantity over quality… Owen thought that Mark might've had the right way of it.

But no matter that, it didn't change the fact that this stuff of Mark's hit hard and fast, and by the time it was gone (and he had had _four_ even) Owen was pleasantly buzzed, a flush splashed across his cheeks as he sunk against the coach cushions, and rambled to Axel about how complicated love was. Yet he said it all with a wry smile. And Axel nodded sagely along with him, like they were both the wisest men in the world.

By the time Lenny and the others arrived home, Axel had gone upstairs to bed, and Owen was sitting on the couch, singing along with some music video playing on the screen. Though it could have been worse… it could have been commercial jingles. Owen sang oblivious to the fact that the others had come back.

Their gain had been small, thanks to the Flash, but they'd gotten away mostly unscathed. Mark looked a little under the weather, no pun intended, due to a mishap with a superspeed cyclone, but he just headed upstairs. The Rogues would all lick their wounds in their own way, and Owen was only vaguely aware of most of them heading upstairs to do their own thing.

"How'd it go?" Owen asked, a slight slur to his words. He heard Lenny chuckle, felt him settle down on the couch next to him, and he did his best to not look at him. Especially not _now_. He was more than a little drunk and already he knew how much he could ramble when he was. Of all the ways Owen envisioned anything coming out, this hadn't been it. And he wasn't going to start anything when he could barely see straight.

Owen's eyes were lidded as he watched Lenny reach forward to grab one of the bottles. He looked at it and couldn't help but shake his head. Mardon would be pissed when he learned, but Lenny would just tell him that boys would be boys and offer to pay him back.

"It went fine." Lenny said after a few more moments. "I mean, no worse than usual, at any rate. Even better, we actually managed to get away with some cash, and none of us got picked up this time." Lenny said. Owen smiled a little, nodding just slightly.

"S'good." Owen said and Lenny chuckled again. It was a warm sound, Owen noted, which struck Owen as somewhat odd. After all, warmth wasn't something that one associated with Captain Cold. Lenny patted Owen on the knee, and only the alcohol prevented him from flinching at the touch.

"You're not going to like that stuff much in the morning." Lenny said after a few moments. "Let's get you some water and get you in to bed." Lenny said. He knew he shouldn't be so soft, after all, that wasn't normal for him either. Then again, he didn't really act like himself around Owen or Axel. Part of it was his life not going how he'd expected it, part of it was guilt over what had happened to Lisa. Owen laughed a little, but stumbled along after him anyways.

It didn't take Lenny long at all to get Owen up to his room… and Owen was pretty sure that he was leaning too close and too much, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Lenny didn't seem to mind either. Later on, he'd blame it on the alcohol, but he'd never forget what he did say, which came unbidden, or the look of surprise on Lenny's face.

"Ever since we met, I always saw you like the father I lost." Owen blurted out. Too drunk to care about the consequences… not in his right mind enough to worry about what would happen next. Lenny left him in his room wordlessly. And Owen drifted off to sleep, sparing a brief thought that perhaps now that it was out in the air, he'd be able to contain the feelings of lust.


	3. Interlude One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lenny and Owen are separated...

Things were a bit awkward between the two of them now. Owen knew that it was his fault, and he wished that there was some way he could fix things. Perhaps if he could go back in time, or erase Lenny's memory of it… but he didn't really have the means to do any of that. Owen sighed and threw an arm over his head and wished he could stay in bed and not have to deal with anyone.

Lenny tried his hardest not to show it too much, but Owen could tell. There was something like a gap between them, and he wasn't denying at all that it was because of his confession. In his head, he rallied against himself, calling himself all sorts of names. Because in spite of everything… nothing had changed except now Lenny barely wanted to look at him.

Owen had figured the fallout was going to be bad, which was why he'd done his best to keep everything under wraps. Now his complicated feelings mixed with something like despair as he had lost that closeness that they had once shared. Owen was confused, surely Lenny knew that the way he was acting could be likened to fatherly. Maybe he did, but hearing it in simple terms had been too much to bear.

Maybe Lenny hadn't wanted to be a father.

Or maybe Lenny had felt something else entirely and the confession had sent him reeling. All Owen could hope for was that eventually, Lenny would get over it. And things would get back to normal.

* * *

No matter how much he willed it to be so, Owen had a sinking suspicion that things were not going to be normal again. Things didn't seem as messed up as they could have, but there was still that lingering feeling. That lurking suspicion. Things weren't as good as they could have been either and it seemed like more and more often, After all, Owen couldn't count the last time he'd been on a mission with Lenny at all.

But as of right now, this one didn't seem to be going entirely too well. Deathstroke had been acting odd the entire mission, Lenny and Evan were on edge, and the other people working with them weren't exactly the smartest of people. Owen was trying to ignore his instincts that something was off, because he was with Lenny, and that might have meant that they were going to go back to being close soon. Owen wished for that. Every night, between the dreams and the feelings that still bothered him, he wished that they could get back to their previous relationship.

Owen should have been paying attention… because whatever was wrong with the mission, it was centered on Deathstroke—which was something that was brought to quite a bit of clarity when he suddenly felt the man behind him, and he was quickly put out of commission with a broken leg… after Evan had fled.

Pain blurred his perception; his only focus was on getting out. But even with his vision swimming, he could make out the shapes. Make out Vault and Evan ignoring his pleas for help… make out Lenny telling the new guy and his lady friends that Evan had the right of it. That they were getting out of there and leaving him behind.

"Lenny!" He cried out for him to stop, but the blue-clad villain didn't even turn at the sound of his voice. A very large woman was hoisting him up, carrying him out as the explosion boomed behind them… and Owen was sure he would have felt the heat if not for the numbness that had suddenly taken over his person.

Once again… he found himself abandoned.

Whoever the new people were, didn't waste time handing him over to the authorities. Owen was resigned to his fate… Iron Heights wasn't a nice place. He had no friends… and everyone knew about his saviors. The Outsiders were supposedly heroes, but Owen barely knew who they were.

And everything was bound to change when someone mentioned his new cell mate was actually the hero, Black Lightning.


	4. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightwing and Captain Boomerang talk... kind of.

Owen knew that Nightwing didn't really like him. The other man didn't actually go through any great lengths to hide that fact and Owen hadn't expected him to. It was lucky he was even out of prison… that Black Lightning had convinced the Outsiders to rescue him, even though that same exact group was the one who'd put him there in the first place. But while most of them took it in stride, it was obvious there was no love for him from their leader. Thunder, also, seemed to dislike him, and Metamorpho had told him that it was because the two of them were still trying to live up to that grand idea of heroism that they'd grown up with. People like Katana and himself, and Grace, were more world wise. Nightwing had the knowledge, but also a chip on his shoulder. And Thunder was just… too much the daughter of a hero, too much in love with the idea he represented.

Owen wasn't sure why Metamorpho talked to him as much as he did, but the two of them spent quite a bit of time drinking together on the deck of the Pequod, watching the world go by in between missions. But not tonight. Tonight… it had been slow. Metamorpho was back in his own world, probably reliving things that shift had done. Thunder and Grace were off doing their own thing… which on another night, Owen might have been content to imagine, and it'd keep things at bay for a little while longer. And Owen never saw very much of Katana when they weren't on a mission together.

Things had been high-octane thus far. Things didn't slow down and when they were slow, he was drunk, and he didn't think much about things at all. But tonight was different and slow, and Owen found himself alone, sitting in the cockpit with Nightwing, though the black and blue clad hero hadn't said a word to him since he'd wandered in. He had, however, smacked Owen's feet away when he'd propped them up on the console, and likely glared at him out of the corner of his eyes. Owen wasn't like the others, Nightwing didn't scare him. Which, in retrospect, might've been part of the reason Nightwing didn't like him.

But it was quiet and it was boring. Owen felt the memories crawl to existence like scurrying ants, the restlessness all of a sudden jolting through his limbs. A familiar feeling suddenly settled somewhere between his heart and stomach, and then throughout his limbs. He hadn't thought about Lenny since he and Evan had left him to the mercy of the Outsiders, or more likely, to the death that awaited from the imminent explosion. He had expected that the emotion he'd feel the most then was something like hatred, a dark and insipid feeling that took root and took hold and maybe turned him definitively in to his father's son.

Owen definitely hadn't expected to still have that same feeling from before. That same longing, the desire to make him proud. In spite of all of what had transpired… that feeling had taken root too deeply. And Owen realized he was far more messed up about this than he'd initially realized. His entire body shuddered and Nightwing looked at him, very briefly. Owen didn't look back.

There was an awkward silence and Nightwing's hands tightened on the steering wheel, imperceptible save for the creak of the leather gauntlets. Owen let out a sigh… quiet and longing, and tried to shake the thoughts off. Nightwing tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and the silence persisted… until…

"Is something bothering you?" Nightwing finally asked. Owen started a little, having not expected Nightwing to talk. Owen scoffed a little, then glanced out the window with a shake of his head.

"No, I guess not." Owen responded. He paused then, "Well, I suppose yes, but what do you care?" Owen might have sounded a little bit petulant, but he couldn't help it. Nightwing barely gave him the time of day, to even say hi, if he wasn't giving him orders on a mission or telling him what to do on said mission. Nightwing's mouth tightened in to something like a scowl, but he shook his head after just a few seconds.

"I care." Nightwing said after another handful of seconds passed. "It… it's important for a team to be able to trust and talk to one another. It's safer for everyone if the team members are healthy, in a sane state of mind, untroubled by things which might distract them on the mission." Nightwing told him. Owen scoffed.

"You listen to Metamorpho, you let him speak his mind to you. Grace has Thunder and vice versa, Katana has her meditation." Nightwing pointed out to him. "We all cope with those things in different ways." Nightwing continued. Owen shook his head a little.

"What about you?" Owen asked. It was mostly just to avoid talking about himself, but he was curious. Nightwing was closed off, he wondered if he talked to anyone at all. Nightwing's smile was small but noticeable.

"Depends on what's troubling me." Nightwing admitted. "Though most of the time I just lose myself between someone's sheets and forget about everything." Nightwing paused a beat… "Normally Arsenal, but that's neither here nor there… and we aren't talking about me." Owen frowned.

"It's… not really anything." Owen said after a brief silence. "Just residual feelings and wants catching up now that we have a moment to catch our breaths." Owen smiled at Dick, it was sharp and not entirely warm and for a minute, just a minute, Nightwing was sure that Owen was more dangerous than he let on. "It isn't going to cause problems… I'm used to dealing with it."

Dick nodded and Owen fell silent, just the quiet humming of the engine, the occasional creak of leather, and the sounds of breathing filling the air. Nightwing kept flying, and Owen's thoughts stayed on Lenny, until he drifted off to sleep in the chair on the cockpit.

* * *

After that encounter with Nightwing, it was as though a floodgate had opened. Now it seemed that every time Owen had a moment alone, he couldn't help his thoughts from drifting back to Lenny. And how much he missed him and still wanted him even after what had happened.

If there was any anger about the whole situation, Owen couldn't find it, and might not be able to until a confrontation came about. Owen sank heavily in to his quarters, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He pinched it, as though that would stop the deluge of thoughts. It didn't and Owen knew he was going to have to talk to someone because it wasn't like before.

Before he had _seen_ Lenny and was able to talk with him, be close to him, be in his presence and if they were being particularly chummy, he could even touch him. His mind imagined the brief touches, and then more that had never happened. Lenny's hands in his hair, stroking down his face, then lower… and lower.

"Damnit." Owen swore and he tried to conjure up anger. But all that was there was burning desire and deep shame. Par for the course when dealing with this particular facet of his life. He laid back against the bed, closing his eyes as he tugged off the boomerang scarf with a jerk that was nowhere near carefree. As the scarf fluttered to the ground, his other hand trailed down his body.


	5. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we have a brief interlude with the Rogues, Dick and Owen talk again, and Owen makes a decision...

"You know, I know it's not my place to say anything…" Mark's voice was bland, "But you've been drinking an awful lot lately. I mean… it's just barely noon and you're on what? Your fifth? Sixth?" Mark asked. Lenny didn't look up at him.

"Tenth." Lenny corrected and waved his hand in the general direction of a few bottles that had made it over to the sink to be rinsed out. Mark's frown spoke volumes about what he thought about that. He took in a breath, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm not trying to cause problems--"

"Then shut up." Lenny snapped, eyes flashing behind the blue glasses he wore. Mark looked taken aback for a moment. Then he held up his hands, almost in a defensive gesture, or maybe on of surrender, and turned his attention back to whatever he'd come in to do in the first place. Lenny drained the remainder of the beer that he'd been drinking. Mark was quiet for a few more moments.

"It isn't my place to say anything, but whatever you're doing is self-destructive and you're supposed to be our leader… you might want to shape up before someone has half a mind to challenge you for that honor." Mark said. Lenny's hands balled in to fists.

"Are you _threatening_ me, Mardon?" Lenny's voice was almost a snarl. Mark frowned, took a step back almost unconsciously.

"No!" Mark said, shaking his head in almost disbelief. "Not me, I just… _someone_, you know? You're not acting like yourself Len and people are getting edgy." Mark told him, frowning a little. "You know, just, look out for yourself… we all know that you're by far the best at taking care of us." Lenny frowned a little and stood.

"Stay out of this." Lenny told Mark, his tone making it clear that this discussion was over. He grabbed another beer from the fridge and then headed upstairs. He paused outside the door of his own room, fingers resting on the doorknob… before he changed his mind and went to Owen's instead.

* * *

"There actually is something." Owen told Dick. Owen had sought the hero out and he was crouched under a console, panel on the floor beside him, and wiring hanging out. Dick paused a moment, made a gesture that he was listening, and then waited for Owen to continue. "In the grand scheme of things, it isn't anything really important… I guess, I thought it was… enough to ruin an otherwise great friendship…" Owen continued. He took a seat, remembering not to put his feet on the consoles.

"This… guy I worked with, before the Outsiders. I mean, you know all about what happened with my dad, and my foster family was okay, but not great you know. But with him it was… an instant connection. He was my dad, even though we barely knew one another, there was nothing truer about our relationship than that." Owen said, the memories making his words sound a bit thick, an odd, different tightness in his chest springing up as the pain flooded back with the telling.

"When I… when George died, I got mixed up with his friends, his family. And… for me, Captain Cold… filled a void there. I'd lost a father, and it seemed like everything showed in stark clarity when we met. And the pain over my father, though not abated, lessened… because I saw Cold as another father. Someone who'd help me and take care of me… and he _did_ up until… well, when he left me to die and the Outsiders rescued me."

"That's a pretty large mark against him." Dick said, his voice muffled from beneath the control panel. Something sparked, and Owen winced a little as Dick swore softly.

"It should be." Owen said, once Dick had stopped swearing. "I feel like I should _hate_ him for that. Part of my mind pretends it was all Mirror Master's idea, and that I wouldn't have been left there if Lenny was calling the shots… but the fact of the matter is… Lenny always calls the shots. I know he heard me shouting for his help, and he left anyways. I should hate him. But I can't." Owen bit his lip.

"Well, sometimes it's like that with father's." Dick said, "I mean… sometimes they do things that are like a kick in the gut. It isn't like you're the first person to have a father make a mistake. Even if that one is pretty damn huge. And… sometimes you're willing to forgive that because their family and you love them and no, it doesn't really make sense at all." He wasn't without his own issues involving his guardian.

"Spoken like someone who has experience in matters like this." Owen said after a moment. Dick gave something like a nonchalant shrug as he removed himself from beneath the console.

"Well, fathers. You know? What're you going to do?" Dick said, sounding almost pained for a minute. Owen shook his head then and sighed. Then he shrugged a little, worrying his lower lip.

"Nothing for it, I guess." Owen said. "After all… I'm not in any position to reconcile. We might not be the crowning example of the good guys, but we are… heroes, after a fashion. And… well, you know about my family from before, who my dad was." Owen sighed again. Dick stood and put his hand on Owen's shoulder, squeezing just slightly.

"For what it _is_ worth, Owen, there's always time." Dick told him. "Even if you do play for different sides of the law, there's nothing saying, no rule or anything, against you calling him up and seeing how he's doing." Dick suggested. "And if you can't talk to him directly… just ask someone else." Dick said with a faint smile. After all, that was how he kept tabs on Bruce.

"Thanks… I'll… definitely give it some thought." Owen said. He glanced up at Dick and gave him a wan smile. He felt a bit better having talked about it… though he still hadn't gotten to the actual root of the matter. But he didn't need to bring that up… no one else needed to know that at all.

* * *

Owen sat on the deck of the Pequod by himself, only the dimly glowing emergency lights and the twinkling of the stars disrupted the blackness of the world at night. They were hovering somewhere over the Atlantic ocean… but it was too dark to really see it, even if he was standing at the edge. Owen was not.

He was sitting in one of the longue chairs set up, his leather jacket zipped to the neck, and his scarf bundled around him, he'd even thrown some gloves on to help fight against the chill. But out here, Owen could feel how clean and refreshing the air was, and he had hoped that it would help him sort out his thoughts.

Owen was considering taking Dick's advice… calling and talking to Mark or Axel, seeing how Lenny was doing, and masking it as a social call to check on the whole gang. But he had no idea what Lenny and Evan had told the rest of them… he didn't even know if he had a right to know. Owen frowned and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes.

Life had been way less complicated before he had met George. Things were… simple. Not great, but passable. He had had a decent job that he liked, his own apartment… but not much in the way of family. Owen knew that meeting George and everything after had been worth it. He only wished he'd stopped making so many damned mistakes.

Owen considered that perhaps life was just like that. Fate or divine plans or whatever it was. He couldn't tell, but maybe Owen was being tested, and this was his chance at redeeming himself. Or, at the very least, this was where his life was _supposed_ to take him, and he needed to stop worrying about everything and everyone else.

That decided, Owen resolved to put his past behind him.


	6. Interlude Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief transitional chapter.

"How're you doing?" Nightwing asked, the next time he and Owen had a moment alone. It wasn't much of one… Owen was sitting on the deck of the Pequod, drinking under the stars as usual. Nightwing had come down for… Owen didn't really know. As a general rule, Owen didn't know much about what Dick did around the ship when they weren't working… he was almost wraithlike in his appearances there. Especially now that the autopilot in the Pequod had been fixed, and they spent a good amount of time flying nowhere since they had no place to go. Owen glanced up at Dick then, watched the way the way the light from the interior of the ship illuminated half of him, then shook off the thought about light and dark halves of people.

"Oh… alright I guess." Owen said after a minute. Dick nodded, shut the door to the interior of the ship, and took a seat in the lounge chair next to Owen. He didn't touch the beer, but he grabbed some of the ice from the cooler and let it slide through his fingers. He didn't look at Owen either, which caused the red-head to peer at him curiously.

"Did you call them?" Dick asked. Owen shook his head a little and Dick nodded. He did _kind of_ understand the reticence to do so. After all, dealing with family wasn't easy, even if you were still close to them, especially if they were as messed up as _their_ respective families. Dick frowned a little. "Listen, I'm not trying to be pushy, but you might want to soon." Dick ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't know why, I just have kind of a bad feeling about this next mission, but I can't really place it beyond just that." Dick said. He stood and patted Owen on the shoulder. Owen closed his eyes a little at the touch and it took all of his willpower not to beg him to stay, to just keep the loneliness away a little longer.

"Good night, Owen. I'll see you in the morning." Dick said and he turned to leave. Owen was fairly sure that he was going to patrol Blüdhaven, but he shook his head and closed his eyes again, bowing his head. Sitting alone in the darkness, he wondered what kind of bad feeling Dick had. Wondered if they were accurate enough that he really _should_ call them. But maybe it was better this way.

Who knew? They might have even already had a Captain Boomerang to replace him.


	7. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Outsiders lay low, Mark and Lenny watch the news, and Owen's attempt at having a sex life is thwarted... Major spoilers for Checkmate #13 in this issue, at least the first part of it.

"Sydney still isn't fixed." Nightwing said to the assembled Outsiders, "And I'm not even sure anyone can reverse the effects of the Luddite that Dr. Sivana used." Nightwing continued. "I called up Batman and asked if there was anything he could do… well, actually, I called Alfred and asked him to ask Batman since he isn't speaking to me at the moment."

"But as of right now, we need to lay low. The Pequod is too conspicuous; anyone can find us up here. We need to split up and lay low until this… blows over, or at least until things settle down some. I know I'm going to hear it as soon as I set foot back in Blüdhaven." Dick shook his head a little. "But it doesn't matter, I'll take the heat and try and weather it while you guys take some well-deserved down time."

"You have money, keep in contact with your communicators, but I don't care what you do as long as you lay low and don't get in to any trouble." Dick tapped his chin and then shrugged. "But that's about all I can say on the matter, you all know that things are going to get worse." Dick shook his head. He should have listened to that feeling, should have just contacted the League and let them deal with it… but he hadn't and now things were worse than before.

The Luddite had relegated Sydney back to the stone age, including the citizens there… and worse, Sivana had gotten away. And his plot for revenge was to call up the Daily Planet and let the entire world know that Arsenal had lied about them dying and that they'd been working undercover for the better part of almost two years. Dick could scarcely believe it'd been that long. How much everything had changed.

"Use fake names, pay in cash if you can." Dick cautioned and then guided the Pequod down to a remote area, but one that Roy had had some things delivered for them. "With any luck, we'll be back to our normal operations in no time, I'll let you know when it's safe."   
* * *

"You see this on the news?" Mark asked. Lenny looked like hell… and Mark knew it was because Lenny hadn't been sleeping much. He also knew that he'd been spending a lot of time just… sitting in Owen's room. Evan told Mark that it was most likely guilt for what happened, and that their actions had caused Owen's death. Axel had been pissed to hear it. Mark had been surprised that Lenny had just sat there and took it while Axel screamed at him.

Not that he ever thought he'd be thinking this, but Mark was pretty sure Evan's assessment was right. Lenny did feel bad, guilty, about what had transpired. And it might have just been the build up, a lifetime of regret, but Mark wasn't one to speculate, he was only trying to keep Lenny on track. And _this_ might even help.

"What news?" Lenny asked as they headed back down to the living room. The others were in the kitchen, and Lenny leaned over to look at the television that Mark had left on. The Central City News Network was putting out a breaking story about the group known as the Outsiders. As videos and commentary of their deeds flickered on the television, one thing stood out to Lenny.

"This news." Mark said, "The Outsiders." He paused a beat. "Owen."

"He's alive?" Lenny said, questioning, but the writing was on the wall. Another video showed even better quality, and it was definitely Owen. Definitely not an imposter. For the first time in a long time, Lenny felt himself breath a bit easier. That meant there was still time to fix one of the mistakes he'd made.

* * *

Owen had considered, for a time, returning to the Rogues' hideout to see if he could see them. Maybe make amends, especially now that they were sure to have seen that he was alive and well. But in the end, he couldn't bring himself to do that, especially not knowing what they'd think. Owen's mind conjured that they'd probably be disappointed, and he did what Dick had suggested. He made his way to the airport and got a ticket to London.

With the fake identification and passports, plus a winning smile and no small amount of charm, Owen made it through customs with little problem, and he'd wandered around looking for something to do until the bright lights and pounding music of a club called his attention. He got a hotel nearby and hung out in there… dancing and drinking, and generally trying to enjoy himself.

Owen enjoyed the club atmosphere. It was smoky and so many people went in and out, so every day it was almost like a different place. He was left alone for the most part, and he liked it that way. Except after being mostly alone for the better part of a week, he was itching for someone to talk to.

Luckily for Owen, he was in luck. A knockout in every sense of the word, wearing very little clothing, with auburn-red hair and smoky, mysterious eyes seemed to be watching him, checking him out. It'd been a while since he'd done anything like this, and he had to squash down a guilty feeling… but he approached her, wanting someone to talk with. He struck up a conversation as she drank a martini, and he nursed a beer. The music was loud, so he had to speak loudly, but it was okay.

They made some small talk, and even shared a dance. Owen bought her another drink and another one for himself, and he asked her if she was from London. The girl laughed a little shaking her head as she took a sip of her martini.

"No, no, I'm from Marseille. Near there." The girl said, tossing her hair. Owen nodded a little.

"That's in France?" Owen asked, trying to place her accent.

"_Oui._" She responded and she smiled prettily at him again, her bracelets clinking together as she set her drink down.

"I'm an American." Owen told her, "I'm here on vacation." Owen explained. It was only a slight lie as far as he was concerned. The only thing was it was a forced vacation. The girl nodded in understanding. She took another drink and Owen was feeling bold enough now. "I've never been to France." Owen said and his eyes dropped down to look at her chest, he couldn't help it… she was put together very well, and it'd been a long time since he'd been with another person.

"I've never been to America." She said, and her look spoke volumes. Owen felt a fluttering in his stomach and he smiled at her, wide and far more confident than he actually felt. He gave a slight shrug.

"Don't suppose you'd be interested in some cultural exchange?" Owen said. She smiled at him, giving him a sultry smile over the rim of her glass.

"Your hotel or mine?" She asked.

* * *

It didn't take long for them to get to his hotel, or for them to get to his door. She was… quite enthusiastic, and he was too. He had her pressed against the door, his mouth on her neck as he hunted for the key. She was wrapped around him, her leg twined around his. He found the key in his pocket and let her go… reluctantly, as he went to unlock the door.

As he fumbled with the key, excitement causing his hands to tremble slightly, he tried to keep his mind off of it, so he wouldn't be too eager once they got inside. "You know, I don't think I caught your name." Owen said as he put the key in the door.

"It's Jo." She replied. She was behind him, close enough to where he could smell her perfume, the slight smell of the club clinging to her.

"Is that short for something?" Owen asked as he turned the key, the lock unclicking.

"Josephine." She replied, her mouth next to his ear. Owen shivered.

"Josephine… that's a pretty name…" Owen said, and then his eyes went wide in surprise as he felt something like a pinprick against his neck. And then, there was blackness.

Josephine watched as Owen crumpled to the floor, and smoothed out her skirt almost idly.

"Black Queen's Knight to Black Queen…" Josephine said as she tapped the communicator in her ear. She paused a beat while Sasha responded. "Collie has been leashed."


	8. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an op is planned and things do not go as well as planned...

Whatever happened next felt like a blur to Owen as he recovered from whatever it was he had been dosed with. He vaguely recalled a meeting with Amanda Waller, but he was sure that had only been to check in. Owen didn't remember her questions, couldn't remember his answers except that they were probably _too_ truthful and slurred with the effects of the drugs. Waller's face, he remembered, had been as unchanged as usual. A brief tightening around her mouth and something in her eyes, but nothing he'd ever been able to read. She left and Owen had drifted back to sleep, wondering if this would all be here when he woke up, or if he'd been dreaming it all along.

When Owen awoke next, the drug had seemed to clear his system, and there was fresh clothing laying out for him. He yawned and put it on, wondering about it. He figured it was due to his lack of a proper superhero costume. He liked his, but he supposed scarves and leather jackets were a bit out of the dress code. The clothing fit tight, and he figured he should have felt self-conscious, but he didn't. He tugged on the gloves, smirked at the boomerang patch on them, and finished dressing.

Owen was collected from his room by a man wearing a uniform most everyone around there seemed to be wearing. Armored, combat gear, from the look of it. With a white circle and a black pawn chess piece on the chest. He stifled a yawn and was led in to a room. There were other people in there, people he didn't recognize, and people he did. Waller and King, Count Vertigo, his team mates… save for Nightwing and Grace. Though it didn't take them _long_ to arrive… with the Black Queen, no less.

The Black Queen and her bishop took turns in the mission briefing, and in spite of himself, Owen was pretty excited for the occasion… after all, the undercover stuff was cool. He could almost feel Dick rolling his eyes at him behind his domino mask. Owen watched as the Black Queen and Nightwing argued… but in the end, Nightwing lost, with the Black Queen citing reasons why the Outsiders should have been shut down by all rights.

Owen listened to the briefing, but mostly he watched the girl who he assumed had captured him. Josephine... he recognized her face, but she wasn't looking at him. Owen repressed a sigh about it as they got gathered up and headed for the Pequod. Their ship was faster, and the Black Queen didn't seem to argue with that.

* * *

Owen was only listening halfheartedly as assignments were given out… but he was a bit annoyed that he seemed to be being stuck on the support team. The Black Queen didn't seem to care about the fact that he wasn't going to do any good there, and was about to walk away, when Owen decided a last ditch effort was in order.

"I have super speed!" Owen blurted out, to which Sasha raised her brows, and then shook her head.

"Which you can't control." She added after a beat, and Owen frowned, his brow furrowing.

"I'm getting better!" Owen protested, "I've done this stuff before. I did it for Waller last year, she—"

"Boomer, shut up." Count Vertigo snapped, but the Black Queen was giving him a look now.

"You what?" Sasha asked him to repeat himself, Vertigo frowned.

"You know, the White Queen." Boomer explained. Vertigo's expression darkened, and Sasha looked as though she was waging a battle with herself. Sasha nodded then.

"You're with us." Sasha said, as they headed off. The walk through the jungle wasn't very pleasant. Whatever had transpired between himself and Josephine in the club appeared to have been all business for her, and her remarks to him were short, and not extremely nice. Nightwing was chatting with the Black Queen up ahead, and Owen felt like he had missed something important about how the two of them knew one another, but it wasn't his business to actually ask about what their history was. Owen figured he could ask Nightwing when they got back.

Sasha lead them to an exhaust vent hidden in the jungle, their infiltration point, as far as Owen knew. Josephine pulled out a metal sphere and a holographic projection popper out and popped the locks for them. All while they were walking, the illusion chatted, with barely any pause between subjects or sentences.

"You were saying something about noise discipline?" Owen couldn't help but say, the sarcasm obvious, but the look Josephine shot him was worth it. After all, she wasn't the only one who could be like that, and the more time Owen spent with her, the surer he was that she deserved it, and that they wouldn't have gotten on in the long run. He shook the thoughts from his head as they headed through the facility.

Sasha and Josephine were efficient, and while Sasha shot out the cameras, Owen, Nightwing, and Josephine worked on getting the guards incapacitated. It was odd, but Owen had a bad feeling that he couldn't quite shake, but he ignored it as they carried on with the mission. Sasha got in contact with her people at the Castle, and worked on getting what they came for.

Owen wasn't exactly sure what had happened during that time, but all of a sudden, they were setting off an alarm, and surrounded by large mechanical monsters that seemed to really want to hurt them. They fought them off while Thinker tried to get the information that they'd come from. Owen was feeling annoyed, and maybe a bit frightened, and he snapped at Nightwing.

Things were blurry from there. The fighting wasn't actually going very well, and Thinker mentioned reinforcements. Dick had an EMP, a small one he said, but it seemed to wipe out everything, and they stumbled in the dark until the back-up generators came on, the red light making Owen feel even more disconcerted.

The four of them headed for the stairs, Owen trying to put on a brave front, but coming off as stupid more often than not. He was scared, The Black Queen and her knight probably didn't understand, but he was sure Nightwing did. In spite of their differences at first, Nightwing did seem to understand him and connect with him more than most. He shook the thought off and thought about what would happen were he to die here.

Owen was sudden hit with a wave of how much he missed Lenny, how much he wished he could have told him goodbye, and the other feelings that he had had for him which had nothing, _nothing_ to do with the ones he had already confessed. He pushed himself to keep up, to get out, because he had a reason to live… even if that reason was only prevalent because he was sure he was going to die.

Anissa busted through the wall like a god send… but she was too far up, and they were going to have to wait until someone with flight powers could get them. They'd called Vertigo, and seeing the light… even with the distant sounds of fighting, Owen felt a surge of hope. It didn't last long as the security systems came back up. Owen didn't notice them until he caught one of the lasers right in the side, and crumpled to the ground.

"Owen!" Nightwing's voice was tight with strain as he watched his team mate go down. Sasha and Owen were both sure that there was nothing more that could be done. Sasha tossed the t-sphere with the downloaded information to Jo. The weird bug robots sprayed them with a gas, and Sasha gave her orders to Jo before she felt her consciousness slipping away.

Vertigo left with Jo and Anissa, and Nightwing managed a very faint smile.

"Mission accomplished?" He asked. Sasha tried to answer, but drifted in the middle of it. Nightwing was vaguely aware of being grabbed… and then nothing.


	9. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cutting people apart isn't research.
> 
> *Warning*: There is torture in this chapter.

The next things Owen was aware of, and he had no idea how much time had passed, was a sharp pain from where the security system had caught him in the ribs, and the metal from the table beneath him and the metal bands (which was warmed from his body temperature) biting into his flesh as they bound him down. Though, the most disconcerting thing was the large, yellow, red-eyed egg shaped… _thing_ holding a giant bladed instrument. Owen felt terror grip him, tightening in his stomach to the point of cramping.

"It's been quite a while since I've used English," The thing began to speak, "So forgive me if it doesn't come out right." He paused and said something in a language that Owen recognized as some form of Chinese, but couldn't understand the words… that made it worse.

"This is a unique opportunity for me…" It continued in English. "I long ago finished studying my colleagues in the Great Ten, and have spent most of the last year in an administrative capacity. Thus, I haven't been able to indulge in any research." The blade he was holding flashed in front of Owen's face, and he made a small whimpering sound as he saw the fear in his eyes reflected back at him.

"But Black Adam killed you…" The Black Queen's voice brought Owen's attention to the fact that she was trussed up next to him. Her voice was wondering, not awed, more like disgusted. "Or did all the King's horses and all the King's men have a really busy year?" Her voice was edged with sarcasm now, something which Owen had to give her credit for. The thing responded in Chinese once more, and the Black Queen showed that, she too, could speak that language.

Owen wasn't sure whether he ought to feel better or worse that he couldn't understand. On the one hand, he wished he wasn't being kept in the dark about what they were discussing. On the other, well, he wasn't sure the line of conversation would prove to be of any particular comfort. The conversation only went on for a few moments, and the thing was turning towards him. Owen wished he could will himself to die, thinking that this was probably going to be a harrowing experience, one he didn't want to live through.

"I'm afraid you'll have to remain awake while I work," It said while it brandished the knife. "The pain you'll experience is accidental. If it's any consolation, this is in the name of research." It was trying to reassure him. In the face of the serrated blade Owen squirmed and struggled against the bonds holding him down.

"Cutting people apart isn't research!" Owen protested, his voice sounding shrill and frightened to his own ears. He wondered if he ought to feel ashamed of the terror making his voice quiver, though he decided that if there was ever a time where he should sound like that, now was it. The thing looked amused, a sick expression that made Owen realize just how futile it all was.

"Learning how something works is, however." It countered smoothly. "Like your alleged connection to the speed force." It added, as though that would somehow make Owen feel better. It didn't. Panic gripped his entire body and he shook his head.

"I lost it!" Owen said, trying in vain to make it so this didn't happen. The thing shrugged as well as it's body could… which wasn't very well at all.

"Then my findings will verify that conclusion." It responded simply, and began conversing in Chinese again, this time to a man looking as though he was clad in rusted, full body armor. The Black Queen seemed to be pleading with him, but he turned and walked out. The doors slid shut behind him, and the egg thing smiled.

"Save your breath, you'll need it for the screams." It told her, matter-of-factly. He moved back over to Owen and moved to flip a switch.

"No! I told you I can't—" Owen started, then the thing flipped the switch. It vibrated him with an intense force, and tore a scream from his throat that made it feel raw as soon as it came out, his entire world going fuzzy around the edges.

When the vibration stopped, Owen curled his hands in to balls, clenching them tight, to fight against the instinct to cry. The egg man took a few readings and Owen shuddered a little. "Now, now…" The man said, "We're almost finished. And remember, knowledge is forever, your pain will pass." Owen shook his head, eyes squeezing shut.

"Please not again…" Owen pleaded, his voice sounding broken. At least as broken as he felt. "Why are you doing this to me?" He added, his voice cracking as the thing came forward. It seemed to shake his head, almost in disappointment, like Owen had learned nothing at all.

"The same reason I'm doing that to her." The thing responded, and Owen glanced over, seeing an assistant take some sort of handheld saw to the Black Queen's nano flesh. "My desire to discover how you function." He paused to speak in Chinese with his assistant, sounding a bit annoyed when he spoke. He turned back to Owen.

"Where did we leave off?" He asked aloud, bringing a needle to his flesh, "Ah yes, looking for your superspeed."

"It's gone…" Owen pleaded weakly, "I don't have it anymore." Owen was desperate, he probably would have said or promised anything just to make it stop. The thing favored him with a sick smile.

"I'd be inclined to take your word for it, if not for the bio-electric field you're generating." The thing said. "Take a deep breath, here we go." He pushed a button and the vibrations came back. Owen felt like he was being shaken apart, and he screamed and pleaded with the thing to stop, pain sparking across every nerve ending.

Owen didn't remember much between the time the switch had been pressed again and when two of the guards tossed him in to the cell with Nightwing. Nightwing caught Owen as he was tossed in, and he felt that Owen was still trembling.

"Hey boss." Owen said weakly, "Got room for me?" He asked this, maybe sarcastic, but he just sounded defeated. Dick grimaced at the tone, not liking the implication. He bore no physical marks, but Dick had heard Owen screaming, and had a clue that the psychological damage was more than enough.

"Sure, Owen." Dick soothed him as best as he could as he laid him down on the floor of the prison cell. "There's tons of room." Dick looked down at Owen as the man closed his eyes.

"Good…" He muttered, before he drifted off.

* * *

Dick was talking, Owen noticed as he drifted back in consciousness.

"What is he doing to her?" Dick muttered, which Owen heard clearly, unlike the rest of what had been said. Owen frowned and tried to sit up, his limbs feeling heavy and pained.

"He's taking her apart, piece by piece…" Owen said, "Like he did me." He added, his voice not quite breaking on that last sentence. Dick gave him a look and Owen felt a flush of shame as he realized it was probably pity. Dick frowned.

"We have to get out." Dick said, after another moment, and Owen nodded. Dick saw the bruises forming around his eye, the swelling of his lip, the physical toll was beginning to make itself known… and Dick felt another ache. Another bad feeling he'd ignored come to bite him in the ass.

The two of them waited in silence, Owen feeling a bit woozy from the pain, Dick quiet and contemplative. "Almost time to go." Dick said, all of a sudden. Owen gave him a confused look, and then shook his head.

"Great…" Owen said, "Shall I call a cab?" Owen asked. He didn't mean to be sarcastic, but he couldn't rightly care about his attitude right now. "Or are you good to drive?" He added. Dick didn't seem to notice the tone, and he spoke as though Owen had been perfectly seriously.

"We're going on foot." Dick stated. Owen watched in mild fascination as Dick pushed his own fingers in to his mouth, triggering her gag reflex, and causing himself to puke. Something metallic clanged on the floor, and Owen eyed it warily.

"Did…" He started, then frowned, "Did you just puke something up?" Owen finally asked. Dick nodded and explained to him about the microtorch. Anger flared in Owen like a rash ad he shook with the rage, his emotions tightly wound up.

"You bastard." He hissed through gritted teeth, Dick said nothing. "The entire time you had that and you listened to that _thing_ torture me and you just sat there! What in the _hell_ were you waiting for?" Owen seethed.

"The right time. Our ride's here." Dick said as he kicked open the door with a solid kick. Alarms had begun to blare and Owen wondered what all the excitement was. It didn't matter. If there were guards to get out of the way, Owen had plenty of anger to release.

He and Nightwing fought their way through the guards, bantering back and forth like nothing had happened, like nothing had changed. He used Nightwing's escrima sticks to plow through the enemy, hitting them as viciously as possible, if Nightwing noticed, he didn't say anything.

They made their way back to the lab and right outside, Owen picked up a gun from one of the fallen soldiers.

"The Black Queen…" Dick started, and Owen interrupted him with a harsh and bitter laugh.

"Nightwing, the Black Queen is going to give me a fucking _medal_ for what I'm about to do." Owen said, firmly believing that would be true. They busted the door open, and Owen was ready to open fire.

"Humpty Dumpty!" Owen cried out, "Get ready to crack!" He aimed the gun. As far as battle cries went, it wasn't a winner, but he felt he deserved some kind of retribution for what had been done.

"He's gone." Batman was standing there instead, impassive as ever. Owe felt surprise and another spark of rage. His revenge plans had been brought up short… and by _Batman_ no less.

"Put the gun down and be useful." Batman said, his voice never changing. "Nightwing, find something to cover her up with, Boomer, watch the door." Batman instructed… and the two of them obeyed.

"How… bad is it?" Boomer asked tentatively. Batman's expression didn't flicker, but he shook his head, just slightly.

"Bad." He responded. He paused a beat. "I'm sorry it took so long to get here." Batman said. Nightwing's brow furrowed and he frowned.

"I'm… sorry you even had to come get us." Dick said. Batman shook his head and took Sasha gently in to his arms.

"No apologies." Batman replied, still neutral.

"Batman?" Sasha's voice was quiet, weaker than even Owen's had been. Batman's face softened.

"You don't have to worry anymore." Batman's voice was gentle, something that surprised Owen. "I'm going to take you home."

"Don't look at me…" She pleaded, turning her face away. Owen could see something unspoken, tighten around the edges of Batman's mouth.

"It's alright." Batman said, his voice tender still, "We're going home."

It didn't take long for them to get on the Pequod… but Owen skipped the celebration of their rescue in favor of a shower and some sleep. The sleep never came, as every time he closed his eyes, he was back strapped to that table… that ugly blade getting ever closer.


	10. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In spite of Owen really not wanting it, things are changing once more...

Owen noted in the aftermath, that he was the only one who'd really been hurt, excluding the Black Queen, who didn't quite count, considering she wasn't an Outsider, and considering she'd probably heal a hell of a lot faster than he would, considering her nanotechnology. They'd rejoiced, they'd been saved, and the Outsiders were not in the news as much. Things _should_ have been settling down… Owen was looking forward to it.

Owen had been feeling antsy and restless. He didn't sleep much anymore, the nightmares were too much to take sometimes, but the inactivity while he recovered was the worst. Owen had been lying to Chang Tzu about his superspeed, but whatever the egg man had done, his abilities were far less ambiguous now, and much closer to how his speed ought to work. He hadn't been telling anyone that, he didn't want to become just another speedster in a long list and legacy of them. After all, he had his own legacy to uphold, in the sense of weaponry and a name.

Villains before him had reformed, he wasn't sure why it was such a big deal he wanted to be a good person and honor his father at the same time. Owen's brow knitted together as he pondered it. Everyone made such a big deal of the past. It was a thing that had always bothered him. History lessons, anniversary of infamous events, anti-celebrations and speeches to commemorate tragedy. Owen heard people say that people who didn't remember the past were destined to repeat it. To him, it felt like remembering the past made it all the more likely to fall in to old habits.

Admittedly, no one really asked Owen's opinion on intellectual matters. Axel had, at least as intellectual as he got, but those were days long gone by. Owen tried not to remember, and he was working towards trying to forget all of the Rogues.

He had been lounging on the deck, nursing a beer and watching the clouds and thinking, when Nightwing called him in for a meeting. Owen was surprised to see Batman there, but he held his piece as he fell in line with the others. Nightwing was looking oddly serious, his mouth pressed in to a grim line. Batman was expressionless, his body erect to try and tower over everyone. To Owen, it was an intimidation tactic (an effective one), but he wasn't sure it had the same effect on Grace.

"Nightwing has suggested that I take over leadership of this team." Batman started, his gaze flickering between each member as the surprise registered on their faces. "To be fair, I had already decided on stepping in. And that was before I had to rescue you from North Korea."

"I need a team that can operate in the shadows, with everything that's been happening as of late." Batman continued, ignoring the questioning looks. "But I need to make sure you make the cut. I need you to show me what you're capable of. I've brought some other heroes in to help. Some of you will be working with them, others of you won't." Batman looked like he was about to carry on speaking, but Owen had heard quite enough.

"This is bullshit!" Owen interjected, his anger rising. "We already _are_ a team. We already have this job, you can't make us audition for it!" Owen was upset, Batman was unmoved by his anger. He stepped in close staring down at him like he was an insect, or less.

"You're lucky I'm including you at all." Batman said, his voice still neutral. Owen bristled.

"And just what's wrong with me?" Owen asked. Batman scoffed, shaking his head slightly.

"I don't have the time to even _begin_ listing that." Batman said shortly. Owen wanted to say more on the subject, but Batman had turned away, addressing Nightwing about the mission on hand. Owen listened, but he was mentally berating himself. He had to keep his cool, because he had no way of knowing which parts of this were a test, and which weren't.

"A S.T.A.R. Labs satellite went dark." Batman was saying, "And I need someone to go up there and see why." Nightwing looked determined, then confused, and finally settled on a frown.

"Consider it done." Nightwing said, his frown deepening a little. "But uhm, why would you want _me_ on a space mission?" Nightwing asked. Batman frowned back at him.

"Because it went dark shortly after docking with Chemo." Batman explained. Owen noted that Batman seemed to sound a bit less harsh saying this, but it could have been his imagination. It likely was, because Owen couldn't imagine someone being that cruel to the person they'd raised. He saw Nightwing's mouth tighten, and his body tense up. Owen knew that Chemo had destroyed Blüdhaven, the city that Nightwing had claimed as his own, and that the loss had hit him rather hard.

As far as low blows went, Owen had to consider that one a direct hit. Despite himself, he found himself wishing he could say something, _anything_ to lessen the pain that had to cause.

"The government is sending up a team to see what happened," Batman continued on speaking, "But I figured you'd want a chance to go first. Boomerang's speed will help him to get past any toxic waste on the ship." Batman's gaze flickered to Owen, who was leaning against the wall, trying to look less sullen than he felt.

"So as much as I'd rather not include him," He added, watching Owen's expression carefully, "He'll be your partner for this mission." Nightwing frowned again and he let out a sigh. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully.

"Owen's been through a lot lately, you should cut him some slack." Nightwing said. Owen was surprised, but pleased. But Batman just shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm surprised you do." Batman retorted.

"You can only ask someone to prove themselves so many times."

"Are you talking about Owen, or the mission teams?"

"Both. They shouldn't have to audition, they've been together for a while."

"You _asked_ me to take over this team. And _this_ is how you put a team together." Batman's tone closed off any further room for argument, and he told Nightwing of the arrangements for them to get to the Watchtower, and the use of a space-ready JL Javelin to go to the outpost.

Owen was silent on the trip there, and until the blanket of space surrounded them, he didn't feel quite safe to talk. Owen frowned a little and kept his eyes on the monitors.

"He's going to hold what my dad did against me forever, isn't he?" Owen asked out of the blue.

"The sensors show the government has launched their shuttle, we need to make this quick." Nightwing replied. Owen frowned a moment, but then flashed Dick a cocky smile.

"Quickly? That, I can do. But don't think you're getting out of answering that easy." Owen cautioned him. The docking procedure was quick, and Owen watched as Nightwing took a few readings, then decided that they could go without spacesuits. Nightwing handed Owen the flashlight and they got on their way, moving through the eerie red lights of the space station.

"Running on back-up power, I bet." Dick noted, "Enough for life support and emergency lights."

"I'm not my dad." Owen said in response, causing Nightwing's brows to raise over his domino mask. "I get that he wasn't… the best person, but I'm not him." He repeated. Nightwing fought back a sigh.

"I know, Owen." Nightwing reassured. "Batman does to. No one is saying that you are him." Nightwing and Owen continued their slow trek through the space station, coming across a completely fleshless skeleton, and a bloody handprint on the door. Owen shivered, and only Dick's training kept him from doing the same exact thing.

"This stations only been dark for a week." Nightwing said as they studied the body, "There's no way they should have been this far decayed." Owen frowned.

"Something ate their flesh..." Owen paused a beat. "That was a thought I didn't need." Nightwing peered around.

"Chemo's capable of doing something like that, but the structure is undamaged, there's no traces of acid in here." Owen looked around too, frowning, trying to make sense of the situation. His brow furrowed.

"Maybe they were heading for the airlock." Owen said. Dick shook his head.

"No spacesuits." Dick replied. Owen frowned more. "We need to find what they wanted with Chemo. Maybe the lab will have some clues." Dick's sentence was punctuated by a noise from above them. Dick started and Owen felt like he jumped about five feet in to the air.

"Sounds like something is alive still." Dick said and he sounded confused, but intrigued.

"This place is climbing up my list of least favorites like a bullet." Owen admitted, and followed Dick to wherever he thought they needed to go.

"I need to get the power back on before I can find out anything." Nightwing noted. Owen nodded.

"If that means lights and this space station looking way less like something out of Aliens, then you go right ahead." Owen said. Nightwing chuckled under his breath and flipped the lights on. It was less eerie, but no less disconcerting with the lights on. There seemed to be piles of fleshless bones everywhere. Owen tried to take his mind off of it.

"When I first joined the team, was what my dad did the reason you had an issue with me?" Owen asked. Nightwing gave him a surprised look, but then shook his head.

"My issue was that you questioned every order I gave you." Nightwing said, he fixed Owen with a look. "And that was before I learned you were working with Task Force X." Owen didn't have a reply, but none was needed as Nightwing started talking about the scientists again. He went over the logs and discovered that the power had been cut to prevent the safety protocols, and that they'd been opening the airlock to vent the place.

"Seems like they were trying to develop some pest control for big farms." Nightwing continued, "When they tried to get some of Chemo's fluid for testing, it infected, for lack of a better term, the bacteria and changed it. It shows six of them were created, we need to get the drop on them."

"Wait, I still think we need to talk about Batman." Owen protested. Nightwing looked exasperated. "You say he doesn't hold my dad against me, but I know he does. It's… it's almost like he _wants_ me to be a criminal!" Nightwing bristled.

"That's bull, Owen! You're the one honoring him by taking his name and using his weapons. You're taking those crimes on yourself!" Nightwing was angry, Owen could tell. He knew he shouldn't press, but it was like a dam breaking.

"He was my _father_!" Owen said, his voice breaking in ways that made him feel weak and pitiable. But Nightwing wasn't taking pity on him. He was right in his face.

"He was a _killer_!" Nightwing shot back. "You _barely_ knew him, Owen. Show some sound judgment for _once_ in your life. Change your name, people will treat you differently—"

"But—" Owen started to protest again.

Nightwing sprang like a panther and tackled him to the floor. "DOWN!" Nightwing shouted as he leapt. A jet of something green arced out behind Nightwing, but Owen saw it clear as day.

The things were fast, and while they were dodging them, they were able to see how destructive they were. They ate everything organic, Owen's boomerang, Dick's boot, even the flesh beneath the boot. Dick frowned, and while dodging, they made their plan. They had to vent them like the scientists were trying to do. Owen understood quick enough, and using whatever he could find, he started to push the mutated bacteria towards the airlock.

Owen knew he could do this, get them to the airlock, and then Dick could vent them. He was fast enough. He had to be. It wasn't easy to wrangle them, but he did, keeping Dick updated on his progress all the time. Until finally, he had them where they needed to be and he gave Dick the go ahead.

Owen raced away from the hatch, heard Dick on the comms, but didn't have the desire to stop running and respond. When Owen reached the command center, Dick was sitting with his head in his hands, and Owen leaned against the door to catch his breath. The mutated bacteria had burned away some of his clothing and the skin on his arm, but he was smiling, and _proud_ of himself.

"So…" Owen said, and Dick looked up surprised. "Have I proven myself yet?" Owen asked. Dick frowned at him.

"It's not about that." Nightwing told him patiently. The space shuttle from the government announced their presence, and Owen and Dick went to the window.

"Should I tell them we're all clear?" He asked. Dick frowned more.

"Not yet." Nightwing responded. They watched as Chemo absorbed the mutated bacteria in to his form and Nightwing went over to the controls, attempting to release the locks and send him in to the sun. For the second time that day, Owen felt anger, and then sadness as he realized he was about to lose another friend. And another family.

"Dick…" Owen tried to be reasoning, "You saw how he cleaned those bacteria up. With the right people, think of the clean-up work he could do. Nuclear spills and…" Dick turned a glare on him.

"Owen, please tell me I just _imagined_ you defending the… thing that destroyed my city?" Nightwing's voice was cold as ice. And as loathe as Owen was to lose this, he couldn't let this happen either. Owen steeled his face, and his resolve. "Where is this coming from?" Nightwing asked. Owen suddenly remembered… Waller saying the same thing about Dick. Owen was supposed to keep him from doing anything stupid. Another task failed. Another regret he'd learned to live with.

"I'm… only saying he could be… helpful. Useful. He could be…"

"Redeemed?" Nightwing asked and laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "You never got it, Owen. You still just don't get it. Some crimes can never, _ever_ be redeemed. Sorry, Owen. It has to be like this." Nightwing said. He turned back to the console to finish his calculations. And was disrupted as a boomerang sliced through the console, sparks making a shower. Nightwing whirled.

"I'm sorry too, Dick." Owen said, and he genuinely was. "But I don't agree with you." Nightwing gave him a look.

"You really want the day to end like this, Owen?" Nightwing asked. But there was no more time for words. If he let Nightwing get initiative, nothing he did mattered. So Owen attacked. He knew there was no hope for him against Dick. His superspeed had already been pushed to its limit, so all he had was his own, mundane skills. And Nightwing was far better trained in those. Dick brought Owen to the ground once, but Owen also knew that Dick was cocky.

"It's over, Owen. Stay down." Dick said. Owen shook his head. He was bleeding, from his arm, his nose, he was going to be black and blue tomorrow, but he couldn't care about that. Owen threw two boomerangs, Nightwing dodged them easily. But while he was focused on that, Owen lunged, knocking in to Dick.

No matter how much punishment Dick dished out, Owen didn't let go, he held on, never falling, never relenting. Until he could see that the American shuttle was about to dock, and then he finally did let go. He ran as fast as his legs could take him, faster than Dick, even without superspeed. He ran away to a secure room and locked himself in, where Dick couldn't reach him.

Owen's green eyes were angry, disappointed, and sad. He stared at Nightwing through the window in the door.

"Sorry, Dick." Owen said, and he sounded genuine again. "Guess that's it for me and the Outsiders." Owen said. Dick didn't respond. Owen turned away.

"Pegasus is gonna dock soon. Then it's a new start for Chemo. And for me."


	11. Interlude Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen doesn't need anyone.

Somehow, Owen wasn't finding himself terribly surprised. When he returned to Earth with the Pegasus and Chemo, Rick Flagg and King Faraday were on hand to deal with the crew, and most likely him. Whatever the reasons, today he wasn't going to let that happen, so while a harried King tried to explain to the Captain of the Pegasus who they were, Owen took his leave of the situation, having to sneak around to get out, since he'd exhausted his superspeed to fight with Dick back on the ship.

Owen wasn't sure where he should go, or what he should be doing from where he'd just left. There was a crossroads, or a divergence in his path ahead, where he could go one way or the other. He was well on his way to being a hero... he laughed the thought off quickly though. After all, it wasn't like the Justice League or the Justice Society was going to let him join. Nightwing had been reticent as it was, and it was highly likely that he was much more tolerant than either one of those groups.

Owen ran a hand through his hair and headed towards the bus station. It was time for him to get out of New York and get back to some place where he could decompress and get back to being himself. He wondered if his job at the bar was still open, and there was a brief moment where he considered just forgetting about his legacy, his sort-of family, the heroes he'd been friends with, and going back to being just a simple working man. Owen hung his head in shame at the thought. Though a little voice told him that they deserved that, after all, they'd left him without a second thought.

If he was being perfectly honest with himself... he missed all of them. Especially Lenny. With the mere thought of his name, Owen felt a twist in his gut. He tried to ignore it, but after all was said and done, those feelings hadn't faded. Even after more than a year, almost two years, apart. Owen could only imagine that his face was lined even more, Axel was almost an adult... at least as far as age went.

He imagined, too, that Mark was as elegant as usual. Evan and Mick probably hadn't changed at all. The thought was comforting and scary at the same time. After all, he wasn't sure he wanted to go back, but the thoughts of them made him want to return.

His indecision led him to inaction and he only made it so far outside the place where the Pegasus had it's re-entry, before doubt took over his mind, leaving him uncertain and disgusted with himself. For the moment, he had no home, and all he needed to do was make a new start for himself. He looked around. New York was as good a city as any... and if he disappeared from the public scene, he doubted anyone would care.

Without possessions and only a minimal amount of funds to his name, Owen resolved himself to the straight and narrow. He was going to forget about everything that happened since he'd met his father. And never spare a thought for that again. For real this time, now that there wasn't the constant reminders.

After all, Owen had got by on his own before he met any superheroes or villains and he could do it again.


	12. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lenny is not happy with the way things are...

"I can do it." There was a pause, the crackle of static over the speaker phone. "But it's going to cost you." The voice continued. Not that anyone was surprised by the revelation. "Double my usual rates, since the first time was free." The voice added as an afterthought.

Captain Cold swore underneath his breath. Not that he didn't have the money, just that he hated being stiffed. And he'd revealed Owen's location to Digger as a favor, there was no reason that they should have to pay for it. Evan said as much in low tones. Lenny ignored him. Contemplated it, then nodded.

"Fine, we'll pay." Lenny finally agreed. Lenny read off a series of numbers and the sounds of keys clicking on a keyboard came over the speaker phone. Lenny was patient, he knew they were good for it, and the hum of approval showed the efficiency in which Calculator worked. Evan mourned the sizeable chunk of money they'd lost, but Lenny looked determined. And no one was going to fight it. Not that there was anything to be done about it now.

Minutes ticked by, Calculator mumbling to himself in counterpoint to a bit of static distortion, until the typing stopped and Calculator was slowly reciting an address for the people on the other end. Lenny was quick to write it down, having to steady himself as the pen bled through the paper, forcing numbers and letters to jam together.

He thanked him many times over, though the money was the only reason Calculator did it. There was no love, no favors, only business. The line clicked dead as more important calls came in and Lenny held the paper up like it was the holiest of relics. He made Evan stay behind and headed towards the location he'd gotten.

It was quite a ways away from Central City and the drive was anxious and unpleasant, the radio stations cutting out as he got away from the city towers. The air conditioning hummed like background music and Lenny tried not to think too hard about what he was doing. Tried not to imagine what Owen might say, or do. Because he wasn't an Outsider anymore, but he hadn't come back and that had to mean something.

Something Lenny wasn't sure he wanted to hear the explanation of.

The address was a nice looking house, nestled on a bit of a hill, behind the pickets of a white fence, with a somewhat nicely kept lawn. It was in the middle of a street with a dozen other houses with it, and near enough to a main road where traffic was moving, and business lined the streets. It was a nice neighborhood and Lenny cut the engine on the car, staring at the gold numbers that proclaimed the house he was in front of was the right one. His hands rested on the wheel... and Lenny knew he needn't be as nervous about this as he was feeling.

Lenny stayed in the car for several more long moments and then finally got out. The street was empty and he shrugged off his heavy parka, took off the square shaped glasses and tossed them in the front seat. He squinted against the sun light, and rubbed his bare shoulders for a minute, plucking at the ribbed fabric of the white undershirt as his brain tried to feed him a million reasons why he shouldn't do this. Why he should just let Owen live in his own place with his peace and whatever else.

But Lenny missed Owen, a lot. He'd been a fool to do what he'd done all that time ago. Two years was a long time for regret, and there was already so much he felt he'd screwed up on, surely this was something that he could fix. Even if Owen didn't come back, Lenny had to make sure he was doing alright. After all, Owen had said he was like a father to him. Lenny knew he didn't deserve the title, but he couldn't help the way it warmed something inside of him, made him want to strive to be different, better than what he already was.

Several more heartbeats passed and Lenny knew there was nothing more that could be added or subtracted to the arguments. Everything was in place and he shut out the voice in his head that kept trying to tell him it was a bad idea. He took off the snow pants that comprised the lower part of his costume, tossed the gun in with everything else and looked down at his boots that looked far too odd with a pair of jeans and a wifebeater.

Lenny made a sort of half laughing sound, then shook his head. That was no reason to stop. He started towards the house, fingers flexing for a lack of anything better to do. He stepped up on the porch and froze, a flight instinct kicking in so powerfully, he wasn't sure if it was his own. A few steadying breaths later and he felt normal again, and he stepped up to the door and, before he could talk himself out of it, pressed down firmly on the doorbell.

The sounds of a dog barking started immediately after Lenny knocked on the door, and a girl's voice telling them to calm down startled Lenny. He suddenly wished he'd called first or something, and considered leaving when the door swung open. A petite woman with auburn curls and grey eyes answered the door. She looked at Lenny and pushed a puppy back from the door with a bare foot. The woman smiled a little.

"Can I help you?" She asked, as Lenny stared. He felt frozen to the spot and had to quickly shake the numbness. It had been a long time he couldn't have expected Owen not to move on to making his own family. But somewhere within him the thought ached. He was supposed to be Owen's family... but he'd failed at that. Of course, if Owen saw him as a father, there was no reason they couldn't coexist. Of course, that was assuming Owen even wanted to. The woman tapped her foot impatiently, and Lenny tried to smile thought it came out more as a grimace.

"Sorry." Lenny said, frowning a little. "I was just..." He could turn and leave now. Say he'd gotten the wrong address, that he was lost, or something along those lines... anything that would make it less odd for a stranger to show up on the doorstep and stare like a crazy person. She looked like she was going to shut the door on him.

"I was wondering if Owen was home." He finally said. The woman was quiet for a few moments, then shook her head.

"He's at work, right now." The woman said. Lenny frowned.

"Oh..." He went silent. "When will he be back?"

"Later?" She ventured. "I don't know, sometime after six maybe... if you leave a number I could--"

"No, no, it's fine." Lenny spoke over her. "I'll just... try again later." He tried not to sound upset. Something in the woman's face hinted she didn't quite succeed.

"If you leave a name... I can tell him you stopped by." She finally said. Lenny paused, squinted his eyes a little.

"Len Snart." He said. The woman nodded, once, and then twice.

"I'll tell him you stopped by." She sounded sincere. Lenny nodded.

"Thank you." Lenny said and he headed towards the car, feeling disheartened, but not quite sure he wanted to give up. He stopped, the woman was watching him leave. "If you... can you tell him I'm staying at the Beltline?" He ventured. She started, like she'd forgotten he was there.

"Oh, yes, of course." She said.

"I don't have a room yet but, you know, I'll watch for him. If he comes." Lenny said. The woman nodded again. Lenny turned and left, squeezing his eyes closed tightly for a moment before he started the car up and headed for the rickety motel off of the busy street.

He didn't think Owen would come, but it was worth a shot.

* * *

Lenny was dozing off, watching the eleven o'clock news, when there was a firm knock on his door. He started to wakefulness, his hand moving towards his hip even though his gun was still out in the car, concealed by his jacket and snow pants. He frowned, searched the room for a weapon, shrugged and went to look out the peephole. Even distorted by the yellowing lens, Lenny couldn't think of a more wonderful sight to behold. Owen's hair was a little longer, a little messier, but his goatee remained neatly trimmed, and there was no mistaking those green eyes. Lenny pulled the door open.

"Owen." He breathed out his name and wasted no time pulling him in to a hug. Lenny wasn't usually an affectionate man, but there was a difference here. He thought he'd lost Owen. And unlike his grandpa or his sister, this was something he didn't have to regret, someone who he hadn't failed to save... someone who there was still more time with. Owen hugged him back, but it almost felt like just politely. Nothing like the affection Owen used to show. There was something guarded in his gaze. Lenny pulled back and he felt suddenly out of words and out of answers and excuses.

Maybe there were no words to fix this. Lenny swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You look good." Lenny finally decided on. Owen looked somewhat unimpressed, but just gave a slight nod that he was listening. Lenny was suddenly unsure of what to say. He frowned somewhat darkly and then shook the thought off. He was making the effort here and he couldn't just expect Owen to forgive him right off of the bat. There was some issues to work through, and Lenny knew that it wouldn't be solved in a day. "Sit, please."

Owen hesitated a moment, brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, and took a seat in one of the chairs, watching Lenny with a steady gaze, wary, and maybe a bit confused. Like something he didn't expect was happening, or maybe he was just not sure why Lenny was here. Lenny sat on the bed, rested his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands together. Owen looked away.

"So... how have you been?" Lenny finally said. Owen frowned, kept his eyes skirting around the room. He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Fine." He answered. Lenny couldn't tell whether or not he was being truthful.

"All the things on the news..." Lenny started, Owen's gaze snapped to him. "... well, I was glad... you weren't..." He waved vaguely. Owen's eyes narrowed and then dropped to the floor. He let out a sort of bitter sounding laugh.

"Somehow, I don't believe that." Owen said. His voice was different than Lenny remembered. "I mean, you left me there to die, didn't you?" Owen's voice was a hiss, low and angry, trimmed with hurt and betrayal. Lenny couldn't blame him.

"No... I..." Lenny started, then stopped. "I don't know what I was thinking, Owen." Lenny said, truthfully. And it hurt that it was the truth. Digger had been one of his closest friends... how could he have done that? As if not being able to save Lisa wasn't enough.

"Digger was my friend and I... should have treated you better. But you..." He trailed off. Scared him wasn't the right turn of phrase, but it was partially true. Owen's confession had tugged at something within him, a part he wanted to keep buried in ice and snow, and that he'd brought it to the fore was almost unforgivable. A warmth he wasn't accustomed to feeling had blossomed and that worried him. It made him realize things about himself that he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know.

A family... they could have been a family...

"Your confession." Lenny finally said. Owen leveled his gaze at him. "I don't know, it threw me off, it... I didn't expect it. I didn't want to be that to anyone and I screwed it up. I failed you and I'm... sorry." Lenny's voice dropped at the end of his sentence. Owen frowned a little more, ran a hand through his hair, and sat back in his chair. It took a moment for Owen to compose himself. Then he shrugged gracefully.

"Water under the bridge now, Lenny." Owen said after a few moments. The hum of the air conditioner was the only sound for several moments, the lights on the television flickering, even though the sound had been muted. Owen tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling. "I..." He started, then frowned. Lenny looked at him, Owen didn't look back.

"I'm sorry. I didn't come back." Owen said after a few seconds. "I was scared, afraid I'd been replaced, that you wanted me to have died there and that you knew that I was alive. A lot of things. I..." Owen stopped, wringing his hands together for a moment.

"I was..." am "In love with you. As more than... a father and son type thing and when I lost you, I thought I lost you. I didn't want to go back and see where we stood. Though I guess it says a lot about that considering you sought me out." Owen's voice sounded amused, almost. Lenny was staring at him in surprise.

"That girl..." Lenny said, wondering, even though the new information was hard to assimilate.

"She's a... friend. Just that." Owen admitted. "I know her from the bar I worked at and it was easier... cheaper this way. Plus she has a psycho ex and I protect her and it's..." Owen frowned. Waved his hand dismissively. Lenny sat there, in stunned silence as he tried to think about everything he'd learned. Owen stared at the floor, Lenny stared at Owen.

"Where do we go from here?" Lenny finally asked. Owen frowned.

"I guess you go back to Central City and I stay here." Owen said, sounding a bit sad. Lenny was frowning and he stood from where he was sitting, walking over to Owen. He dropped down to a crouch, hands resting on Owen's knees. Owen looked at him, smiled wryly.

"Was?" Lenny asked. Owen looked confused. Lenny frowned again, sighed. "Was in love with me?" He prompted. Owen shook his head, looking away.

"Water under the bridge." Owen repeated, softly, maybe distantly. Lenny frowned a little, something felt wrong about the way Owen was saying it. Lenny sighed.

"So, this is it, then?" Lenny asked. "We part ways here and that's... it?"

Owen just nodded. Lenny frowned and moved away, letting Owen stand up. He moved towards the door and Lenny followed. Owen went to open the door, but Lenny caught his wrist.

"I don't want to lose you again." Lenny admitted, his voice so quiet, it was almost swallowed up by the sound of the air conditioner. It gave Owen pause and he frowned, swallowed against a lump in his throat. He turned back towards Lenny.

"I don't think you have a choice." Owen said. Lenny paused a moment. He wasn't sure what came over him then, but the desire to not want to lose Owen again won out over all of the hesitation he'd normally have. He didn't hold back. He closed the space between them and he pressed his mouth to Owen's, kissing him rather roughly. Owen slumped against the door, eyes going wide with surprise.

Lenny locked the door as Owen returned the kiss. If this was the last time they were going to see one another, he was going to make it count.


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where they stand now...

Owen groaned in frustration as the sunlight seemed to be right in his eyes. He rolled over, pillow coming up over his head, as he burrowed against the man sharing a bed with him, hiding his head from the too bright light of the sun. He heard the other man chuckle a little and wrap an arm around him, pulling him close. Owen made a sound and snuggled up.

"S'time to get it up?" Owen mumbled, sleep slurring his words. He felt the hand in his hair, under the pillow, stroking his scalp idly. The bed shifted as he turned to look at the clock. The bed shifted again and he felt himself wrapped up in a tight embrace.

"Nah." Lenny mumbled against his neck and Owen curled up closer to him. "Soon, though." Lenny added, chuckling a little at Owen's frustrated groan. He nuzzled against Owen's neck.

Owen closed his eyes and let out a little sigh, wishing he could stay like this forever. He never thought he could be this happy, but whatever else had transpired, whatever he'd done to deserve this, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Lenny's breathing was steady, but it didn't even out, and Owen twisted a little, looking up at Lenny's face. The older man was watching him, face softening in to a small smile when their eyes met.

"Well, if you're already awake..." Lenny said and he shifted, so that he pulled Owen on top of him. Owen looked delighted and Lenny tugged him down for a kiss, hands sliding up underneath his shirt.

Owen had plenty of time to sort out of his feelings, but that was for later...

For now, he was just going to enjoy his time with the man he loved in many different ways.


End file.
